


I want to be your good morning and your goodnight

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Kinda, Kissing, M/M, Oneshot, Rambling, Sickfic, The kissing gets a little heated but I won't change the rating for that, a little ooc given the context, also erwin's boot, mikasa is mentioned - Freeform, talks about the future, they're both sick, what are tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 08:28:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21268046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A oneshot about gross snotty boys cuddling and talking about life.





	I want to be your good morning and your goodnight

**Author's Note:**

> I had this sitting on my computer for months and added to it whenever I felt sappy, and lo and behold I finished it on a cold, dim autumn morning.  
I'm not surprised that my first story here is about these two idiots. I just love them too much.

"Did you get lost on your way to the stables?"  


"How original of you, shit-stain."

"Sorry I failed to quench your thirst, your highness."

Trust Eren Jaeger to still manage to make the world's most terrible jabs all the while he lay sprawled in a heap of sheets and balled up wads of tissue.

With the warm, evening rays filtering in through the curtains, Eren looked much more alive than he did earlier this morning. Having being bed-ridden for the better part of 7 hours, his mop is generously sleep-mused but otherwise, he looked well. Jean, on the other hand, felt and, probably, looked like he was on death's doorstep if the surprised look Eren threw him once he finally turned towards the doorway was anything to go by.

"Did you get sunburned? What's with the tomato face", was Eren's reply to the gorgeous view that was Jean Kirschtein. The sweat-soaked blonde bangs must have complimented the coal-dark bags that loomed under bloodshot eyes, and the ODM uniform clung onto him just right to make sure he's as uncomfortable as possible. It'd probably been a better idea to change into his bedwear but it was either that or pass out in the field during hand-to-hand combat training. Lesser of two evils.

"No, feel like shit."

"Looks like it, too."

It was physically taxing to reply at this point, so Jean opted to ignore the other person momentarily and hobbled over to the foot of the bed, where he set camp after a round of reluctant grunting from the other. Only when he'd finally sat on his ass had he realised how exhausted he was. If it weren't for the framework, Jean would've been nothing more than a pile of limbs on the hardwood floor.

Say, are hardwood floors meant to sway like that?

"Dude." Jean found himself staring at the ceiling now, the view not much different to the floor. The thought only worsened this sense of orientation so he carried his eyes over to the disgruntled face glaring down at him instead.

"May I help you?" The words barely left his sore throat and he soon wished it hadn't escaped at all, hearing his own pathetically scratchy voice.

"That's my line. Get out of my bed, tomato-head."

"Better than horseface."

"Seriously, dude, aren't there other places to die in a puddle of snot?" Eren scoffed, though he made room for the intruder.

"Shadis sent me. Other rooms occupied", was Jean's clipped explanation, his tongue beginning to feel like a limp piece of meat in his mouth. He could barely hear himself over the throbbing pain that occupied his head, his temples aching after a day's worth of unfruitful massaging.

It seemed that Eren had decided to drop the act for a moment (what a saint) as Jean listening to him shuffle the pillow out beneath his butt to slip under Jean's pounding head.

"Could've just said that before you threw yourself on my ankles. Trying to kill me are you?"

"Didn't know you were that delicate, Eren".

Something in Eren's features softened at the name.

They had an odd unspoken agreement of addressing each other by their first names only when they felt comfortable to drop the rival façade. It didn't happen often but enough for a potential friendship to bud between the two. It'd been almost a whole month ever since they'd last knocked each other's teeth out - the longest so far - and as much as they liked the rush of adrenaline, they enjoyed times like these just as much as they were a rarity.

"Jean", he said a little quieter as to not worsen the blonde's condition, "At least drink something, you're burning up."

He gladly accepted the glass that was handed to him, Eren even going as far to help him sit up to drink. Even for not-so-angry Eren, it was an unusually thoughtful gesture. Perhaps the 7-hour isolation got him a little lonely and needy, Jean deduced. Jean never really got to see this side of Eren often so he simply accepted it as it came, curious to see how far he could milk it.

His finished drink was set back on its perch on the nightstand and Jean settled back down on his half of the bed, legs awkwardly hooked over the edge. He felt infinitely better just from actually laying down, although the straps had begun to dig a bit too much.

As if he'd read his mind - perhaps a perk of being a shifter? - Eren had silently started on his harness, slightly trembling hands deftly undoing the buckles with impressive speed. Jean had half the mind to throw him an incredulous look but didn't fight it; the boys practically showered together so what difference did two guys make?

"Look who's the tomato-head now," Jean snickered, idly pinching Eren's increasingly flushed cheeks.

"Shut your trap. I am still an ill man, you know", Eren spluttered unconvincingly, swiftly quietened by the soft pair of lips pressing up against his. The brunette made a muffled sound of surprise but melted into the familiar gesture, feverishly warm hands coming to curl around the nape of Jean's neck. The kiss started as a flurry of pulling and shuffling, short, desperate breaths diffusing into the air around them until their respective headaches caught up to them and they fell back into the mattress. Their lips danced a slow waltz; taking the time to retrace the curves they had come to memorise after countless years of hiding behind the barracks. When they finally broke apart they remained close, with Jean cupping Eren's upturned cheek, the boy's tanned skin beautifully golden in contrast to Jean's almost snowy complexion. "Now I have your germs," he said in a hushed voice which Jean swiftly refused to be perturbed by especially when paired with the disarming, tender smile Eren wore.

Eren finished freeing Jean of his ODM straps and uniform and let him borrow a ratty t-shirt and shorts, curling him up in the scratchy blankets the nurses had given him. They stayed like that for some time, wrapped up in each other's arms as they talked about their day (read: Jean talked and Eren loathed him for at least having left his bed). Occasionally, they lapsed into silence, simply enjoying the other's presence.

"Imagine the look on Mikasa's face if she finds us like this", Eren scoffed, his smile growing at Jean's small laugh of his own.

"I don't think I'll live long enough to see her reaction," he said grimly, shivering at the sheer thought of the bleached wooden walls painted a nice shade of his blood. They never intended to keep this whole affair behind closed doors, but every time the occasion arose they'd say now's not right - definitely next time and now here they were, so obviously invested in this thing they've made together and too far gone to admit it.

Even now, they can't believe how long they've maintained this relationship after the shit-show that was their first meeting: two hot-headed teens rolling on the mess hall floor, clawing at whatever they could reach of each other, spurred on by the cheering that surrounded them as well as the worried clucking from Marco and Armin. The fight ended as expected, with Mikasa thrusting her fist into Jean's abdomen with Eren over her shoulder, the boys struggling and whining for two very different reasons. After that, they spent every waking hour of their day ignoring the other teen with the best of their ability, and if all else fails, a good fist to the jaw seemed to satisfy them. All changed for the... Worst? Best? Depends on the person, honestly.

It wasn't an instantaneous change either. It was gradual, so painfully slow - everything they weren't. What kickstarted it all was the battle of Trost, in which Jean lost a dear friend of his and Eren found him curled by the fire late at night and gathered him in his arms, letting the blonde cry a bit.

(As thanks, during Eren's time in captivity Jean visited him several times to 'keep you company' 'don't lie to me, Jean, you missed me too').

Now that he thought about it, their terrible first impressions may have helped them get to where they were now. Since they had already seen each other at their worst, there wasn't much to hide and so they slipped into an easy, buddy-buddy friendship. You know that friendship: the two lunatics laughing at the top of their lungs like the world ceased to exist except them. Yes. That's them. They are the two lunatics.

"At the end of the day", Eren began, "I think they'd accept us, especially Mikasa". Jean craned his head back to give him an incredulous look, earning a cursory shove to the chest. "You know what I mean. She only wants the best for me and she doesn't hate-hate you".

"She doesn't like-like me, either. I think I'm the last person she expects to be with you." Jean's expression remained bitter, which Eren has grown to accept that it's simply his default face to look like he has his nose stuck down the darkest depths of commander Erwin's boot. Which was fair; they made a very odd pair. But they still make it work, and that's all Eren could ask for in this hell of a place they so affectionally call life. Jean was, ultimately, another reason to fight and live - long enough to hold his wrinkled hand and die peacefully knowing that he did what he could to save this world.

As much as he dreamt of seeing the world with Armin, he'd do anything to bring back peace to this land and live a day in his life knowing that no titan was going to penetrate the wall and step on his home like a toddler stepping on milk cartons, destroying everything he'd ever built and loved in a matter of seconds. How he longed for a simple life out in the fields, his small cottage up on a hill as he worked in the unforgiving sun for his family of five. Every evening he'd hang up his hat and crash on the couch and smother his whiny, blonde husband with kisses, screeching something along the lines of 'take a damn bath you sweaty pig! You'll get me dirty!'. He'll end his days in bed that is way too small for him, his husband and three kids but they make it work.

"We'll make it work."

"You're right." Jean croaked groggily, apparently having dozed off during Eren's slight rambling but made sure to reach up to kiss the trail of wetness down his cheek before settling again, his heart pressed into his bicep. Eren watched the moon tuck under the horizon and the sun climb its way through the window, silently wondering how many times he'd have to watch the sunrise before he could be truly free and happy.

Jean's soft breathing was cut short by a snort, a pale hand reaching up to rub at his nose before it draped back over Eren's waist, hushed murmuring sounding suspiciously like his name.

Freedom may be a dream away, but the happiness he felt then was immeasurable.

**Author's Note:**

> Unless you take manly tears as a unit of measurement.


End file.
